The Perfect Prey

by James Andrus

  “I have no idea, but it’s on every pill my buddy Jason has ever given me.”

  She stuffed the pill in the front pocket of her tight shorts and said, “Thanks. I might do it later, but right now I need to concentrate.”

  As long as she took the tab before he invited her out for a swim. That was his plan, and it excited him so much there was no way he was going to vary from it.

  Forty-seven

  Stallings felt comfortable with the way they’d set up the surveillance. For a change it felt as if they had enough people to accomplish their mission. Mazzetti and Christina Hogrebe were watching the front of the house from the carport of the house where the triple shooting had occurred. Stallings and Patty sat in his Impala a few blocks down the street with a view of the approach to the house. He wasn’t worried about being spotted, because everyone knew the cops were working a triple homicide and he didn’t think it would be unusual to have cops at the house or down the street. He doubted anyone suspected they were interested in a white chemist shacked up with a woman across the street.

  Patty said, “What do you think about going in and talking to this Miss Brison?”

  Stallings shook his head. “Mazzetti already said she covered for him once. If he’s still driving the blue Mustang we’ll see him pull up.”

  Patty said, “You know you’re lucky.”

  “How so?”

  “With all the shit that’s happened in the last few days and the way you reacted to it, you should be sitting at home on suspension, if not under full criminal investigation.”

  He just nodded, because he knew she was right. That was the beauty of a steady partner; they were allowed to say anything they wanted and you had to listen. He was lucky his partner was smart and insightful and had some common sense.

  She said, “The sarge really saved your ass.”

  Again he nodded.

  “That’s frustrating.”

  “What is? Agreeing with everything you say?” He thought about it and added, “I gotta find a way to make it up to her. She proved her value, and now I have to prove mine.”

  “If we catch Jason Ferrell and close out the Allie Marsh case, that should do it. I think Ferrell can point us in the right direction, and if it was Gary Lauer, then he’s all done as a cop. But if it was someone else, we should be able to clear Lauer completely.”

  He didn’t answer, because the way he felt right now he didn’t want Gary Lauer working as a cop no matter what the outcome of this case. It had been a slow evolution of thought for him to recognize some people should not be police officers. They didn’t have the right temperament. It was easy to lose your police certification. Unlike a lawyer who could commit a felony, spend time in prison, and still go back to practicing law, or a fireman who could claim a chemical dependence to slip out of virtually any problem, a cop had to go by policy as well as the code of the street. Two sets of rules that didn’t always coincide. That was one of the reasons he’d been reluctant to believe a cop would do something as stupid as distributing X to meet women.

  Stallings started to dream about catching the guy responsible for at least two girls’ deaths. “I can’t wait to catch Ferrell.” He saw the expression on Patty’s face and had to say, “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna beat his ass. First thing I’m going to do is make him call his mom so she won’t be worried anymore.”

  He saw Patty squinting through the windshield and followed her gaze in time to see the blue Mustang pull in the driveway.

  Ann wasn’t lying when she told him she liked the spot. It was a beautiful beach with the Atlantic gently rolling onto the deserted shore. She hadn’t even noticed anyone in the parking lot when they pulled in. But there was something wrong with the whole situation. Ann was smart. Not just book smart, but, as her dad always said, she had a good head on her shoulders too. She liked always being the voice of reason among her girlfriends and keeping everyone out of trouble. But now she felt ashamed. That was not one of the emotions she was used to. She should’ve ignored this guy after finding him dancing with the loudmouth from Georgia. That whole confrontation had shaken her a little with the cute, chubby girl right up in her face at the bar. She’d done nothing to deserve it. And she hadn’t seen the girl again. Thank God.

  She felt she was too smart to be fooling around with this guy at all. He was way too good looking, and she knew guys like that viewed sex as a sport with a score-card. She didn’t know if she was an early-inning hit or a late-inning hit, but she knew he was looking to knock her out of the park. And she felt slutty, because the only reason she was doing it was for more of those Ecstasy tablets with the funny J2A mark on them. She’d smoked some pot and drank now and then, but she could take it or leave it. The homemade drug was a different story. This Ecstasy seemed to supercharge her and put her on another plane of existence. She didn’t want to waste that on this guy. That’s why she had saved the X tab for later. And she knew she’d probably hit him up for more before she left Jacksonville. That’s why she was going to sleep with him today. Like any good former Girl Scout she was prepared. She’d packed a blanket and had been drinking steadily for hours so she could always use the excuse she was drunk. Besides that, he was awfully hot, in a very superficial kind of way.

  She’d told her boyfriend, Derek, that during spring break he was free to see anyone he wanted just like she was. At the time she said it, with him looking like a puppy in front of her, she only halfway meant it. By halfway she meant she should be able to see people on break and he shouldn’t. It was funny when she’d told her girlfriends, but now she felt guilty thinking about him at his parents’ house in Pensacola. He was probably playing Nintendo Wii with his little brother and a couple of the buddies he grew up with. She doubted he was at the clubs looking at other girls. Right now she knew she couldn’t say much about it if he was. This was definitely one of those incidents she’d never bring up. She knew it was wrong. She hadn’t even told her girlfriends where she was going or who she was seeing. It felt dirty but in a sexy kind of way.

  She even briefly thought about her parents and how she was certain her father still thought she was a virgin. She’d made sure he kept that idealized vision of her and only brought home the best possible husband candidates. Deep down she doubted Derek would make the cut. He was cute and funny, but he was getting his degree in psychology and her father would say that is a waste of time and not much of a potential income earner. She viewed it much the same way. If she played her cards right, she knew she could see Derek for the rest of the semester and maybe start over again with an engineering student or maybe even an accounting student in the fall.

  She had to stop linking sex to getting the Ecstasy tabs; it made her feel too much like a prostitute.

  The beach was so deserted no one even noticed them on the blanket Ann had brought. He tried to get her to take the X before they went into the water, but she said she had to drive and didn’t think it was safe. He knew that was the least of her worries. He thought about it and decided the Ecstasy in her system wasn’t necessary because she’d just be another drowning victim not used to the riptides of the Atlantic Ocean.

  He rolled off her with a grunt and started to peel off his condom, saying, “That was great.”

  She stayed flat on her back, mashed into the sand, with no real expression on her face, but her eyes cut to him and she suddenly sat up, wiping grains of sand from her lopsided breasts while checking up and down the beach to make sure no one surprised them. She mumbled, “Yeah, great. I’m going for a swim.” With that she struggled to her feet in the soft sand and trotted into the water alone.

  This was exactly what he wanted, even if it wasn’t with the enthusiasm he’d expected. Now it was time to feel the real power of life and death. It was time to bring down his last antelope of the season. As he stepped into the cool surf he had an odd feeling. Usually he enjoyed being a big cat prowling the open plain, but now, with the water gently rolling over his feet and seeing Ann’s blond head bobbing in the o
cean, he suddenly felt like a great, South American crocodile. He slipped into the water accordingly with his head up, arms at his side and feet pushing along the bottom. He envisioned wrapping her in a giant death hug and spinning in the water like a crocodile until she had drowned. In fact, he had to make it appear completely accidental. He’d drawn too much attention with Allie Marsh already. He’d figure out a way to get her underwater and leave her there.

  He gauged their distance, then plunged underwater, racing toward her like a crocodile on the hunt.

  Tony Mazzetti liked clearing homicides in and around Jacksonville. He liked piecing together the puzzles each case presented. Some cases needed a lot of interviews and had witnesses coming out the wazoo. Some cases needed help from forensics, and the nerds in the lab made him look good on a regular basis. In some cases, a few precious cases, there was media coverage with a spotlight that made him shine. He liked those the best and always tried to send the news clips to his mother.

  But this was one aspect of police work wasn’t crazy about. He didn’t like tactical situations. He never enjoyed kicking in doors or even drawing his gun if he didn’t have to. That’s what the goddamn SWAT team was for. This was not a fact he had ever shared with anyone else for fear of being labeled a coward. Cops were paid to risk their lives sometimes. And he did–he just didn’t enjoy it like some screwballs did. He had no idea if this guy, Jason Ferrell, was dangerous or not. But now was not the time to voice those concerns.

  As he crept up the driveway of Miss Brison’s house, he crouched down and stuck a folding knife in the Mustang’s front tire. He looked over his shoulder as the air hissed out of the tire and said to Christina Hogrebe, “A little insurance.” A moment later he was at the front door of the clapboard house with his partner right behind him. Patty Levine and Stallings were covering the rear of the house. This time when they asked to speak to the white man of the house he’d have nowhere to flee.

  He pounded on the front door, not caring if he startled anyone inside and frankly hoping to scare their target out the back door. It only took a moment for the front door to open a crack and Miss Brison’s pretty face to appear.

  “Whatchu making all that racket for? This house ain’t so big I can’t hear a knock at the front door.”

  She sounded much sharper tonight than she had the last time they had spoken. Mazzetti didn’t want to risk losing this guy, so he wasted no time stepping through the front door and forcing Miss Brison backward as he did. He scanned the room quickly as his partner stepped past him and did a quick scan of each room down the hallway on her way to the kitchen. Mazzetti heard her open the back door in the kitchen, and Stallings appeared with her at the end of the hallway.

  Mazzetti turned to Miss Brison. “Okay, where is he?”

  “Who?”

  “Jason Ferrell.”

  Her eyebrows arched. “Who?”

  “Jason Ferrell, the man we saw walking in here from the blue Mustang.”

  “Oh, you mean Chuck. I like to call him Chuck.”

  “You can cut the shit. We’re not leaving here unless we have Chuck with us. Now where is he?” The house wasn’t that big and certainly wouldn’t be considered cluttered, but he knew their fugitive had to be in here somewhere.

  Calmly, Miss Brison pointed over Mazzetti’s shoulder toward the front door and said, “No need to fuss, sugar. He’s right there.”

  Mazzetti turned to see a man slip from the curtains and out the front door in a heartbeat. He called back to Stallings and Christina and raced after him. He cleared the front door and took a second to scan each side of the house, then heard the engine to his Crown Vic rumble to life.

  “Oh shit.” He sprang across the porch and down the three steps, pulling his pistol as the car squealed away from the curb and headed down the street. Mazzetti considered squeezing off a few rounds even though his life was not in danger. He wished it was with the embarrassment he was about to suffer.

  From behind him he heard Stallings say, “Tony, you dumb shit, did you leave your keys in the car?” Stallings didn’t wait for an answer as he darted for his Impala. A few seconds later they were racing after Mazzetti’s car.

  Forty-eight

  Ann seemed distant as they floated in the water, but it didn’t really matter now. He knew exactly what had to happen. He swam next to her, his toes barely touching the sandy bottom while Ann had to tread water. He tried to kiss her, but she turned her head. He started to feel the power of the predator surge through him as he approached her from behind, wrapped his arms around her, sucked in a deep breath, then, in one quick motion, squeezed the air out of her and pulled her under the surface.

  For a moment he thought she’d offer no resistance. Then she struggled and started to flail her arms and legs, but he kept up his pressure and dragged her to the ocean floor. He couldn’t spin like he wanted to. Like a crocodile would. But he knew in a second, as her struggling grew weaker, he’d absorb her life force as it leaked out of her.

  Then, he didn’t know if it was by accident or on purpose, the back of her head struck him hard in the face. He loosened his grip for a second, and one of her feet came up between his legs. He felt the air knocked out of his lungs, and he had nowhere to suck in new oxygen.

  When he floated to the surface a moment later, he could hear her kicking away toward shore, screaming, “What the fuck is wrong with you? Horsing around is one thing, but you almost drowned me!”

  He started to regain his composure and slowly swam toward her into the shallow water and then matched her step for step as she marched toward the blanket that held their clothes.

  “I’m sorry. Come back into the water, and let’s swim.”

  “Are you crazy? You’re an asshole.” Her voice cracked with a sob.

  “Come on, baby, I did you a favor by fucking you on the beach. Now I want to swim with you.”

  She turned, her naked body clearly visible in the moonlight, her eyes wide. “I know you didn’t say that.” But before he could respond, she swung her mean right hand and struck him in the eye, following it up immediately with a hard kick into his exposed genitals. He dropped to the wet sand gasping for air.

  Almost a minute later, when he had the strength to raise his head, all he could see was an empty beach. Ann was gone and had taken all of their clothes with her.

  Ann still gasped for breath, even though she was away from him and only standing in waist-deep water. Now she felt vulnerable standing naked on a public beach even if there was no one around. She didn’t know why guys thought shit like that was funny, but she really couldn’t breathe. He may not have realized it. Maybe it had something to do with all she had to drink that afternoon. But that didn’t change the fact that this guy was an asshole. She couldn’t believe some of the things he’d just said to her. She realized she shouldn’t be naked on the beach with a guy she barely knew, so far from home, but that didn’t excuse the fact that he had no class and was no gentleman.

  She was furious. As he came back toward her again she swung hard with her right fist, then threw her left leg up to catch him solidly in the groin. Her karate instructor she’d had for one year when she was eleven would have been proud of her form. She felt a deep satisfaction as he tumbled onto the sand as if he was about to spit up.

  Then a new thought hit her. What if he was into that auto-asphyxiation crap? He could’ve done that on purpose and really gone too far. She didn’t know if he’d been drinking too. The cocky son of a bitch could’ve drowned her and wouldn’t even have realized it.

  Now, among the alcohol, stress, and adrenaline dump, she suddenly felt very tired. For some reason that exhaustion made her think about the Ecstasy tab in the front pocket of her jeans. It would give her energy and put her into a good mood. But she wanted to get away from this jerk first.

  She felt a little guilty leaving him gasping for air and naked in the surf. She looked up and down the beach. Still empty. Serves him right. She quickly slipped on her clothes, not even bothe
ring to dry her hair. As she walked up, bundling up her towel, she wondered how bad her craving for Ecstasy would be once this last pill was gone. She hoped she never had to see this guy again.

  Stallings ignored Mazzetti’s incessant chatter and concentrated on where he would turn, searching for the stolen police car. He left Christina and Patty at the house to see if they could find out anything from the very odd Miss Brison. Stallings was pretty sure he didn’t want Patty to be a witness to what might happen if they caught the elusive Jason Ferrell.

  Stallings reached for his radio, but before he could mash the button, Mazzetti put his hand on Stallings’s arm and said, “Let’s leave this off the air for now.”

  “Tony, what are you talking about? It’s a fucking pursuit.”

  Mazzetti used a low tone and said, “Come on, Stall, if this gets out, I’ll never live it down.”

  Stallings hesitated, then tossed the radio back onto the seat. It wasn’t smart, but he understood what a veteran detective like Mazzetti was thinking. As he was about to suggest a different area to search, the Crown Vic rolled through an intersection, almost striking them. Stallings spun the wheel of the Impala hard, cutting through someone’s front yard, and squealed the tires on the pavement as the Impala came up behind Jason Ferrell and Mazzetti’s Crown Vic.

  Now the chase was on.

  This was humiliating. Ann had left him naked, bruised, and with no car keys. They were in the front pocket of the shorts that had been sitting on the blanket. Now he huddled in the bushes of the park, trying to figure out a way home. He already had devised new ways this bitch would pay for her treachery. Instead of feeling the power of the predator he was scared, sore, and twitching to get revenge.

  Then he saw an opportunity. A teenage couple sitting on a low wall around the parking lot. He couldn’t risk violence with them because his Jeep would identify him as the culprit. But he did think he could talk them into helping by explaining he’d been robbed. All he needed was a ride back to his apartment. It wasn’t too far.